She's a Millionaire
by Jilly-chan
Summary: AU. The challange--try to write something semi-pleasant about my least favorite GW character. The result: sophisticated and well-disguised Relena-bashing! 3xSyl, & 4


She's a Millionaire  
by Jillian Storm  
  
(Disclaimer: No, this is not a spoof based on a famous game show.   
They have nothing in common. What is rather unexpected is that this a   
story about Relena. It's set alternate reality and will contain no   
blatant Relena-bashing. Why? Well, first of all to see if I could,   
and secondly to honor our friend Jerr who has so patiently endured my   
extreme Dorothy fandom. I even picked a Catatonia song for the   
occasion. Enjoy. I will never write another Relena fanfic again.   
It's totally out of my system.)  
  
***  
She's a Millionaire  
***  
  
Her treasured chest was sunken  
Equally cursed and blessed  
In her Versace dress.  
Too eager to impress.  
  
"What's wrong, Relena?" The willowy blond girl slid next to her party   
companion and linked arms. The ballroom was dimly lit by candle light   
hanging from elegantly cut chandeliers. It was a rather fancy outing,   
but after the Peacecraft family had made a fortune in the shipping   
business they could afford to go.  
  
Relena chewed on her bottom lip, surveying the sea of dancers before   
glancing over at her friend. "I'm not sure, this isn't exactly the   
sort of thing I thought my brother would enjoy."  
  
The other girl followed Relena's gaze to the taller blond who almost   
stood head and shoulders above his dancing partner. Milliardo   
Peacecraft was the reluctant heir to the Peacecraft business. He   
reluctantly attended the organization's meetings and more forcefully   
shunned the social gatherings required by his station. But lately, the   
heated protests that were generated by her brother's presence in the   
her father's study had subsided. Milliardo had actually insisted that   
Relena prepare herself more quickly so that he could get to the evening   
festivities faster.  
  
"It looks like he's taken a fancy to that one, whoever she is. I don't   
recognize her." The blond shrugged, uninterested in Relena's brother.   
"But you look simply darling. Is that a new gown."  
  
Relena freed her arm from the other girl's grasp and pulled up on her   
skirt a bit. It was a simple blue gown that had just enough wiggle   
room it in that she could sit down for dinner without fear of   
suffocation or popping a designer button. "No, I haven't worn this   
before." She felt somewhat suffocated anyway. The entire atmosphere   
of the evening was almost too much. "Sylvia, who is that with my   
brother?"  
  
"I told you, I don't know."  
  
"Look again."  
  
Sylvia sighed and focused on the older Peacecraft and his short haired   
girl fascination. They had stopped waltzing and moved to the side to   
chat with the older crowd. Obviously, Milliardo was warming toward his   
obligations as the oldest son. The majority of the wall flowers were   
the older generation that scattered themselves across various   
comfortable couches and lounge chairs. Several waiters hovered between   
them eagerly serving drinks and offering appetizers. The only people   
standing besides Relena's brother and his dark partner were their   
mirror opposites, a dark man and his cornsilk haired companion.  
  
The more interesting factor in the equation was the masculine stranger.   
Even at their distance, his serious eyes seemed to pierce the watching   
girls' imaginations. He might have been a dangerous pirate ravaging   
their ship and they would have asked to go along with him. Just to be   
near that fascinating darkness.  
  
A vision filled her soap sud hell  
Twin tub on spin  
Let's all her daydreams in  
And how she wants away from him  
  
Relena maneuvered around the evenings events trying to position herself   
near the dark stranger, but forces were against her. She tried several   
times to catch his eye, but he seemed intently focused on whoever he   
was speaking with. His blond accomplice was never far either. Sylvia   
Noventa, who was braver and less famous than the Peacecraft daughter,   
wormed her way nearer to the object of their intrigue.  
  
Relena squirmed with frustration. She sensed the liquid slip from her   
glass before she saw it and by that instinct was able to avoid staining   
her dress. Staring at the ground in disbelief she watched the small   
pools of wet gather on the polished floor.   
  
Immediately a servant came up and cleaned the mess. "No worries, Miss   
Peacecraft."  
  
"Thank you." She whispered diplomatically, glancing over to see if   
Sylvia had made any progress. With the distraction of the movement,   
she'd lost track of the dark stranger's moment by moment location.  
  
"He's the cousin of the girl, Dorothy Catalonia." Sylvia whispered   
very near Relena's right shoulder. "Remember her, Relena? She was at   
our school for a semester several years ago before her family moved to   
the States. She's back to visit for the holiday and brought Heero with   
her."  
  
"Heero?" Relena let the word sound off her tongue for the first time.   
Her voice caught on the *r* naturally, but Sylvia chuckled at the   
smitten sound of it.   
  
"Good grief, Relena. Get a hold of yourself."  
  
"What else do you know?"  
  
"He's Japanese, but studied abroad at the same place Dorothy was   
getting her education. She's graduating with a focus in farming, can   
you believe . . ."  
  
"Farming?" Relena wrinkled her nose.  
  
"Well, agriculture anyway." Sylvia shrugged. "Maybe she likes to   
garden, who knows?"   
  
"Back to Heero." Relena liked the sound of it the second time as well.  
  
"Well, it seems he's interested in piloting. Someone, oh yes, that   
Winner fellow, mentioned that Heero might go into the army." Sylvia   
helped herself to a glass of champagne as the brisk attendant swept by   
them.   
  
"Oh my, you shouldn't drink that." Relena scolded.  
  
Sylvia winked then tipped her head to the retreating waiter, "He didn't   
notice, did he?"   
"Actually . . ." Relena tried not to laugh as the young waiter gently   
pushed through the guests to scold the underage drinker.  
  
"Excuse me, miss." He began, lifting one finger to emphasize his   
authority. "Sylvia?"  
  
"Oh," Sylvia chuckled, blushing deeply and dropping her eyes.  
  
"Trowa Barton, I thought you were with the circus?" Relena greeted   
their school chum. "Whatever are you doing here?"  
  
"Unlike most of you attending our preppy high school, I have to pay for   
my own way." Trowa scolded them with a slight teasing lilt to his   
voice. "Quatre knew I was looking for a little extra cash and offered   
to let me help bus tables this evening after the show. When one of the   
floor waiters called in sick . . ."  
  
"But aren't you too young to distribute alcohol?" Relena asked, but   
she only half listened to Trowa's answer as she surveyed the audience   
for the Japanese guest.  
  
"Don't think about it too much," Trowa shrugged. Then noticing   
Relena's distraction pondered, "Hey, what's with her?" He asked Sylvia   
who was still studying the design of the floor nearest her feet.   
  
"Oh," Sylvia tried again, "Well, she's rather intrigued with Dorothy's   
cousin."  
  
"Dorothy?" Trowa suddenly seemed interested. "I always liked her."  
  
"You never talked to her." Sylvia snapped, a tad frustrated.  
  
"I know, but she was kind of cute." Trowa started to look around   
himself. "But, yeah, I heard that she was here and had Heero along   
with her."  
  
"What do you know about Heero?" Relena asked, hoping that Trowa might   
be more helpful with information than he was about getting them drinks.  
  
"Not much, just that he's engaged." Trowa shrugged.  
  
"You're kidding." Sylvia's mouth dropped open. Relena looked even   
more devastated.  
  
"Nope. I'm pretty sure that he's engaged. Some sort of Japanese   
tradition." The gangly boy shifted from one leg to the other. Sylvia   
had begun to smile bashfully at him and that always made Trowa nervous.   
"Um. I gotta go." Trowa spun and one heel and hurried off to offer a   
much older woman Sylvia's glass of champagne.  
  
She's on it, she's a millionaire  
She's on it, she's got it  
She's a millionaire  
  
"I will not daydream about Heero Yuy." Relena was scribbling in her   
algebra notebook while the instructor lectured on some useful equation   
that would probably help her with the next exam. She didn't care. She   
could pay Trowa to tutor her later. That was her charity.  
  
"I will not daydream about Heero Yuy." She wrote it again in bubble   
letters, letting the *Y's* in "Yuy" curl off the page and into   
impossibly.  
  
Then she practiced writing "Relena Yuy." She wrinkled her nose,   
crossed it out and tried again. "Heero Peacecraft." Relena couldn't   
help but snicker.  
  
Someone near her coughed, and Relena looked up to see Quatre Winner   
staring at her purposefully from his desk across the aisle, then   
glancing toward the front of the class room. Almost fearful, Relena   
deliberately let her eyes shift to see whatever Quatre was directing   
her toward. Had the teacher called on her? No, he had his back to the   
class and was blissfully sketching out algebraic problems with loving   
strokes of chalk.   
  
She wrinkled her forehead and glared back at Quatre. His mouth formed   
the word, "No." Then something else she couldn't decipher. Relena   
hated people who thought she could lip-read.   
  
"What?" She hissed.  
  
Quatre tried shaping his lips around the same word several times, but   
refused to speak outloud. He picked up his pencil and began to write   
something. When he had finished he tapped it with the eraser. Relena   
leaned across the aisle but couldn't decipher his chicken scratching.  
  
"What?" She whispered.  
  
"Do you need something, Relena?" The instructor loved his chalkboard,   
but he hated having the melody of it's screeching interrupted by the   
unnecessary voices of children.  
  
Just as she turned to answer the teacher, Relena saw Sylvia at the   
door, gesturing wildly.   
  
"I need to pee." Relena said recklessly. Several of the other   
students snickered. And Quatre visibly slumped back in his seat,   
embarrassed and relieved that his part in the mischief was over.  
  
"Take the *restroom* pass and go." The instructor frowned, and turned   
back to the board. "Now where was I?" He began to caress the dark   
surface with his mathematical musings.  
  
Relena swooped up the pass as she quickly fled the classroom. "What do   
you want, Sylvia?" She asked as soon as the door was closed.  
  
"Trowa was wrong."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Heero isn't engaged." Sylvia said, somewhat deflated that Relena   
hadn't guessed. "But, then I asked myself, how could anyone our age be   
engaged in this generation--no matter what culture your from! I knew   
he had to be wrong so I asked around."  
  
"Good grief, Sylvia." Relena slapped her forehead, "I hope that this   
doesn't get back to him--all your probing, that is."  
  
"He's here to earn money to go back to Japan and study something.   
Apparently, he's in cahoots with one of his classmates from the States   
and they're looking for some sort of endowment to begin a project as   
well." Sylvia rattled on, spilling her information as quickly as she   
could.   
  
Feeling giddy and nervous, Relena pulled Sylvia with her in the   
direction of the bathroom. "I need to pee." Relena giggled.   
  
Perched on the vanity counter, Sylvia told Relena everything that she   
knew. And she admitted that it was Trowa who had set the record   
straight.  
  
"So, you wouldn't have known if Trowa hadn't been decent and set the   
record straight for us?" Relena was too smitten with her dark stranger   
to really scold her friend.  
  
"Something like that." Sylvia admitted, "Don't give him too much   
credit!"  
  
"So," Relena added, "Do we know how well his petition worked at the   
party this weekend? Did he get his grant? Or earn enough money?"  
  
"I don't think so." Sylvia shrugged. "But if he stays here all the   
better, right?"  
  
"No." Relena sunk her head into her hands, "He'll just go back to the   
States, I know it." She paused, "We've got to find some way to get him   
the money he needs."  
  
"You're the millionaire." Sylvia said coolly.  
  
"Not quite, it's my father." Relena's eyes were unfocused across her   
nose. She always went a little cross-eyed when she was serious   
contemplating a scheme to meet a boy. And she reassured herself that   
that was all, she simply wanted to meet him and help him along to fully   
realize his dream.  
  
Height straight prams  
Chariot scene from Ben Hur  
  
"What?" Trowa frowned, a little offended. "You make me tutor you for   
income, and then you see this dashing young man across the ballroom and   
decide you're going to just give him money?"  
  
"That's not the deal," Relena backpedalled a bit. Trowa wasn't really   
a penny pincher, but he was a tiny bit insecure. It had taken months   
for Relena to pry a word out of the new student recluse. She done it   
mostly for Sylvia who was extraordinarily fond of the acrobat. "He's   
needy too, just a lot more needy than you are. I want to help him   
raise the money he needs . . ."  
  
"This is getting better every minute." Quatre leaned against the wall   
of Relena's apartment. Her parent's had rented a flat for her so that   
she could be closer to her school. Quatre's parents had done the same   
and he lived on the floor just beneath her. He accused her of rowdy   
dancing, Relena called it aerobics. Quatre usually retorted something   
about safari animals and elephants. Today, she wasn't interested in   
their typical banter.  
  
"Focus." Relena said in her best diplomatic voice, "We have to do a   
service project anyway. Why not raise money for the Japanese hotie?"  
  
Trowa groaned. "Why not simply ask your father?"  
  
"Well, that's too easy." Relena shrugged. "If I'm--we're going to   
make a donation, we need to use our money." Trowa snorted. "But we   
can always milk our parents."  
  
"Your parents." Trowa snorted again. Quatre started to laugh.   
  
Sylvia had been quiet up to that point, gazing rather unashamably at   
her favorite circus performer. "I think that Relena has some good   
ideas, and we do need service hours. That much is reward for helping."  
  
"I could give elementary students tours of the circus backstage."   
Trowa mumbled stubbornly, but not wanting to too loudly protest Sylvia.  
  
"I could visit the elderly." Quatre piped up. "Why take people's   
money?"  
  
"It's for a good cause." Relena protested.   
  
Quatre still looked doubtful. "What are these ideas?"  
  
"Well, we could babysit." The boys groaned. "Remember, Trowa, you   
were the one who suggested elementary students!" Relena continued   
quickly, "Or we could sell tickets to see Ben Hur in my dad's theater."  
  
Quatre frowned, "Ben Hur might be my favorite movie, but I don't think   
that you're supposed to sell tickets to see it . . ."  
  
Relena smiled her most winning smile, "Don't worry. Daddy'll make   
everything okay."  
  
Push chair rage  
Accustomized roll bar cage  
Will help baby come of age  
  
"This is hardly more successful than the movie showing." Trowa   
protested out of one side of his mouth while reading a fairy tale to   
twenty kids. Twenty kids who had wrestled him out of his chair and   
were clinging to his various toothpick like limbs. One young girl had   
a firm grasp on both of his ears and was making kissy-faces. "This   
story is not Snow White OR Sleeping Beauty." He reminded the toddler   
firmly.  
  
"Patience, Trowa darling." Relena said as she walked by, surveying the   
damages and estimating what sort of chunk that would take out of their   
profits. The movie showing hadn't been terribly successful. Most of   
her parents friends and Quatre's entire Maganac Film Club went to the   
flick. Trowa had taken Sylvia but they insisted it wasn't as much a   
date as for the "cause." Relena wished she had increased the price of   
admission when the turnout had been so much less than the thousands she   
had expected.  
  
The hero of the evening hadn't come. Relena had pulled at the ends of   
her hair and started chewing at them when the movie had started.   
"Where is he?" She had asked Sylvia. Sylvia had replied, "But I   
didn't invite him, I thought this was supposed to be a secret   
donation?"  
  
"Secret?" Relena snorted as she walked past Sylvia and Quatre who were   
trying to keep the younger kids in their pens, er, cribs. As soon as   
one tot was replaced and Quatre went to chorale another small person,   
the original one would be half escaped.  
  
"What's good about a secret donation? I want to meet Heero." She   
kicked at a loose block and barely missed hitting a mass of wiggling   
little bodies. "Oops." Relena let her fingers trace her lips and she   
wondered what kissing was like. She had caught Trowa and Sylvia behind   
the bleachers one afternoon when it was warmer outside, but Sylvia   
wouldn't talk about it.   
  
This was not going according to plan exactly. She kept figuring the   
figures in her head, but no amount of magic algebra chalk was going to   
make the number big enough to help Heero.  
  
So what's in the pram  
Is it teen death?  
  
"So we failed." Sylvia sniffed, near tears. Expectedly, Trowa   
appeared to hover behind her, just in case Sylvia's legs decided not to   
work anymore.   
  
"Thanks for putting it so kindly." Relena's diplomacy had slipped out   
the back door while she had shooed the last pesky children from her   
parent's recreation room. Not even the pastel palm prints that covered   
craft leader Quatre's body from head to foot could urge her lips to   
smile.  
  
"Well, we did make a little money." Trowa offered kindly. "We could   
give that."  
  
"It's just terribly unfair." Relena protested with her righteous   
indignation reflamed. "He should get to live out his dream!"  
  
"It's not like the guy was expecting you to pay his way home." Quatre   
frowned, unhappy with how distressed this stranger was making their   
friend. Relena might overdue the theatrics upon occasion, but she had   
a good heart.  
  
"I might as well hide forever." Relena pushed her fists into her   
eyesockets, thinking to herself that if she never saw the daylight   
again she couldn't have been punished enough. "What a failure."  
  
"Now, now." Quatre said, slumping to sit on the ground. Starting to   
feel the exhaustion. He glanced down at his re-painted clothing and   
grimaced. Then, he started to smile. Then chuckle.   
  
Quatre laughed. Trowa and Sylvia started to snicker, and she really   
did fall back into Trowa's expecting arms.   
  
Relena started to vibrate with fury. How could they laugh? But then   
her spasms turned into her very own fit of fanatic laughter. She sunk   
to the floor and her tummy started to ache from the exertion. She   
bumped into Quatre, and then they lapsed into another round of jolly   
belly-chuckles.  
  
"At least we got out community service done." Trowa struggled with his   
English as Sylvia continued to laugh against him. "Early even."  
  
"Silver-lining spotter!" Quatre accused, holding his stomach, and   
laughing harder every time Relena rolled into him.  
  
"Oh, just take the money, Trowa." Relena gasped, "We all know you want   
it."  
  
Trowa protested weakly.  
  
Bazooka the check out cue  
There's no need to argue  
About who was in front of who  
  
After cleaning the recreation room from their babysitting adventures,   
the four friends found themselves back again for further Heero oriented   
festivities. Apparently, Heero's cousin had managed to raise the money   
for Heero's project. The Peacecraft family had offered to host the   
event since the young man's name sounded so familiar. None of them   
exactly remembered the name as the dark stranger Relena had recently   
been devoted to.  
  
Sylvia and Relena hovered in the back corner, avoiding Heero as he   
circulated the guests at all costs. Relena sighed remembering how   
eagerly she had tried to catch his eye just weeks before.   
  
"Look out, he's coming." Trowa whispered as he hurried past, coat   
tails flying. Relena had insisted her parents include him along with   
the regular serving staff. She assured them that he never gave alcohol   
to minors.  
  
"Where? Where?" Relena whispered after him just as she felt Sylvia's   
cool fingers grasp her arm. She stiffened when she heard her brother's   
familiar voice.  
  
"Oh yes." The deep baritone slid a little nasally as he approached his   
younger sibling. "And this is my kid sister, Relena."  
  
She turned, ever so painfully slowly, focusing past her brother--who   
she would punish later--and onto Dorothy Catalonia.  
  
"Relena, this is Dorothy . . ."  
  
"We've met." Relena said sharply, her voice a pitch higher than normal   
as she struggled to release her tension slowly, like a balloon leaking   
it's helium.  
  
"Yes." Dorothy smiled coyly, "We've met before. But I think Milliardo   
wanted to introduce you to . . ."  
  
Relena's balloon spontaneously caught it's breath as she saw . . . him.  
  
"I'm Heero Yuy." Heero glanced at everyone, seeming puzzled. "I think   
I'm the person they meant to introduce to you anyway."  
  
"Hi." Relena said dumbly, mouthing the word and letting some sound out   
of her rigid form.   
  
"But I suppose you know all about him anyway." Milliardo easily   
surveyed the crowd over Relena's head. "This party is to celebrate his   
good fortune."  
  
"I . . ." Heero started, just as Dorothy wrapped her arm through his   
and pulled him after Milliardo who had spotted his dark haired beauty.  
  
"You must meet Lucrezia!" Milliardo insisted, setting off at a brisk   
pace.  
  
Relena had yet to close her mouth from her first utterance. She felt   
her ears burning and wished she hadn't pulled her hair back for the   
evening. But Heero was gone.  
  
She watch him go. Slowly she regained her hearing through the ringing   
red ears. She suddenly regained a sense of her body, and Sylvia's   
fingernails firmly embedded in her arm.  
  
"Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!" Relena gasped. "Sylvia let go!"  
  
"Sorry." Sylvia blushed. "He was gorgeous."  
  
"Who was gorgeous?" Quatre asked walking up to fill the place that   
Heero had just left. Relena felt relieved to see a friend take it.  
  
"You are." Relena chuckled anxiously, somewhat regaining her sense of   
humor.  
  
"Really," Quatre said with bravado, but his ears were turning red,   
"Tell me why."  
  
"Later," Relena promised as Sylvia pulled on her bruised arm.  
  
"Let's go tell Trowa off." Sylvia giggled gleefully, "Some informant   
he is!"  
  
She's on it, she's a millionaire  
She's on it, she's got it  
She's a millionaire  
  
Relena was doodling in her notebook again. This time she had finished   
an exam early. Thanks to Trowa, she had learned her algebra formulas   
in time. When they had been poured over the text, she offered him the   
money they had earned.   
  
"No one else could really *use* it." Relena insisted, "And it was   
earned as a service project. We're proud that you're financing your   
own education. That's incredibly noble you realize."  
  
Trowa had actually blushed at something other than Sylvia. "Nevermind   
that." He whispered. "Put it away and use it sometime to fly to   
Japan." He had filtered that all into his explanation of why the   
quadratic formula was important to know. Relena simply smiled.  
  
She doodled in the margins, "Sylvia Barton." She made the *y* extra   
loopy. Chewing on the end of her pencil she pondered things a minute   
before glancing over at Quatre. He was a slow test taker, but he   
always did better than she did when it was all said and done. Quatre   
said it was because he listened to the teaching of the chalk on   
blackboard. And because he did not dance with elephants in the wee   
hours of the morning.  
  
The ad begs "buy bottled water"  
But we know that it tastes of piss  
Should be getting our tampons free  
DIY gynecology  
  
Relena wandered through the airport to find her luggage. The signs   
were incredibly foreign, but every once and a while she'd spot a word   
in English or French that she would recognize.  
  
She found the right station, she hoped, and leaned against a pillar   
watching the luggage spill into the room and rotate on the ramp. Eager   
passengers that she recognized from the flight over reclaimed their   
baggage and left. Nothing with her baby blue signature fabric tumbled   
down.  
  
She'd learned what patience was after six years. After graduation,   
Trowa had decided that he was going to limit his circus time in order   
to put himself through college. He also picked up a little work as a   
bartender. He never sold anything to minors. Sylvia had cried for   
weeks after he left, but went to her own university to practice law.   
She said that she needed something to really concentrate on or she'd   
never stop crying. But during the summer, she always interned at the   
offices closest to the circus and was it's most faithful and welcome   
audience member.  
  
Relena's eyes started to cross as she devoted her attention to where   
her baggage should appear.   
  
Then she'd received an invitation to Japan. Actually, the invitation   
had been extended to her entire family. Heero Yuy and his partner had   
successfully built the first independent-thinking and human-looking   
robot. They had named it Solo after the American half of the   
partnership's deceased brother. Quatre had thought that was a bit   
morbid, but Relena had slugged him saying it was endearing.  
  
"You made it." A familiar male voice called.  
  
Relena took her eyes off of the baggage claim to see her blond darling.   
"Quatre." She smiled lazily, and started to saunter toward him.  
  
"It's good to see you too, darling." Quatre said teasingly. Relena   
could see his ears turning red. She smiled. Stopping to run one of   
her slender fingers along the edge of his ear before greeting him with   
a kiss.  
  
"How was your flight?" Relena purred.  
  
Quatre smiled down at her, "Lovely. The plane got here in no time and   
I've simply been waiting for you."  
  
"I'm waiting for my luggage." Relena explained.  
  
"Well, you know that cheaper flights give cheaper service, darling."   
Quatre played with the ends of her hair. "But you had to do it   
yourself, huh?"  
  
"Yes," Relena laughed, "you know I had to use that money we made years   
ago someday. And this was the only way how."  
  
She's on it, she's a millionaire  
She's on it, she's got it  
She's a millionaire  
  
the end.  
  
(Hee hee. Well, Jerr, that one's for you.)  
  
***  
She's a Millionaire  
by Catatonia  
***  
  
Her treasured chest was sunken  
Equally cursed and blessed  
In her Versace dress  
Too eager to impress  
A vision filled her soap sud hell  
Twin tub on spin  
Let's all her daydreams in  
And how she wants away from him  
  
She's on it, she's a millionaire  
She's on it, she's got it  
She's a millionaire  
  
Height straight prams  
Chariot scene from Ben Hur  
Push chair rage  
Accustomized roll bar cage  
Will help baby come of age  
  
So what's in the pram  
Is it teen death?  
Bazooka the check out cue  
There's no need to argue  
About who was in front of who  
  
She's on it, she's a millionaire  
She's on it, she's got it  
She's a millionaire  
  
The ad begs "buy bottled water"  
But we know that it tastes of piss  
Should be getting our tampons free  
DIY gynecology  
  
She's on it, she's a millionaire  
She's on it, she's got it  
She's a millionaire 


End file.
